


Ghosts In Your Blood

by fiveainley_ohmy, Geritashipper123



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series, Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Western, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Supernatural Elements, wynonna earp au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2019-10-15 21:12:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17536358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geritashipper123/pseuds/Geritashipper123
Summary: The town of Riverside is a nice place...except for the monsters and the violent deaths.On the 28th birthday of the eldest Kirk, they inherit a magic gun and a curse. Leonard McCoy, adopted by the Kirk family, tried to run from his fate, but it seems that all roads lead back home...Also there might be a dragon.





	1. Many Crappy Returns

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyy, it’s ya two favorite gays (apart from Jim and Spock) back with another epic AU. Ali (Geritashipper123) and me (fineainley_ohmy) love the show Wynonna Earp, so we knew had to do a fic based on it. We hope you enjoy, and that you don’t find it TOO weird (just weird enough). -Ren

Leonard McCoy knew the very second he entered the Enterprise River Triangle that something was...off. There was something about the energy, a feeling in the air if you believed in such things.

Which Leonard did--had to, really, in his life. Sometimes a _feeling_ was all the Kirks had to go on.

_Ha._

Like a feeling had ever helped him out much.

Leonard sighed and took another shot from his trusty Coke bottle sneakily filled with bourbon, leaning back in his seat.

He couldn’t believe he was back. He’d sworn to himself he’d never come back to Riverside. He’d left when he was sixteen, gone back to Georgia to learn a bit about his birth parents, and had even gone to school.

He’d even gotten a girl. But he hadn’t had a kid, oh no. He’d been drawn into this stupid fucking curse against his will, no way was he was dragging a kid into that.

Not now, not ever.

The bus stopped, suddenly, with a loud screeching noise. Leonard blinked, looked outside, and groaned, hitting his head against the hard plastic of his seat.

“Stupid bus, right?” grumbled some lady across the aisle from him. Leonard glanced over at her, nodding once and sighing.

And then, he heard it. A growl, like a bear.

 _Or not a bear,_ a voice that sounded like Ma Kirk supplied. Leonard took another long gulp of his bourbon.

He wasn’t going out there. Nope, nope, nope, no way.

_Bones…_

_Ah, fuck._

Leonard sighed and stood up, walking towards the front of the bus. The driver looked at him funky, and Leonard just shook his head. “We’re close to my stop. I’ll just walk.”

“Your funeral,” the driver shrugged, letting him out. Leonard rolled his eyes, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

It was still dark. Only a couple of hours past midnight. The wind whistled ominously, and Leonard began to wish he’d just stayed in the damn bus. No one knew better than him that the Triangle wasn’t safe at night. _Especially_ for Kirks.

Winona Kirk and her no good husband Frank had taken him in as a foster kid when he was just six. They already had two boys, Samuel and James. Winona and her boys were supposedly descendants of _the_ James T. Kirk, the famed gunslinger and lawman of the Old West. Jim was even named after him. But that lineage came with a cost...a curse.

Leonard was shaken from his thoughts by another growl. Louder than before.

_Goddammit. Why didn’t I just stay on the bus?_

A rustle in the brush off the road, and Leonard tensed. He had nothing to defend himself with.

Leonard turned and quickly started speed-walking down the road again. _It’s probably just a wild animal. They won’t hurt you unless you provoke ‘em._

 _Unless it’s_ **_not_ ** _a wild animal at all,_ said an annoying voice in his head that sounded like his adoptive little brother. _Unless it’s a you-know-what and you’re not armed because your stubborn ass insists on not listening to me and Ma-_

“Shut up, Jim,” Leonard snapped aloud, and suddenly the growl was _much_ closer. Right behind him and there was a steady _crunch crunch crunch_ as something ran through the foliage in his direction.

Leonard whirled around and all he saw was a flash of glowing red eyes before he tripped backwards and fell on his back onto the ground. His hand touched something hard and cool--a pipe.

 _Thank God for litterers_ , Leonard thought to himself as he gripped the pipe. Suddenly he felt a rush of...something. Maybe it was adrenaline, but suddenly, Leonard felt as if he could take on whatever was coming for him.

So he did.

Leonard jumped to his feet as the figure rushed him, swinging the pipe right at its head. The thing snarled at him, its eyes glowing red and its skin glowing with fiery scars.

A revenant.

“You’re not exactly the welcome party I had in mind,” Leonard growled, before shoving the pipe straight through the revenant’s chest.

The revenant howled with anguish and outrage. Then it gripped the pipe and pulled it back out. It dropped it on the ground and rasped at him in a low, demonic voice: “We’ll be seeing you soon, Heir.”

Then it disappeared back into the trees. Leonard breathed hard, coming down from...whatever rush he’d just experienced.

Fucking curse. Why did it have to apply to adopted kids too???

* * *

Leonard hiked along the side of the road in the early dawn light, getting a bigger and bigger knot in his stomach as he approached town. Then, just as he was reaching the city limits, his phone pinged.

_Happy birthday, Bones._

Of course. Jim remembered. God knew why he still insisted on trying every year, since Leonard has stopped replying ages ago but…it was nice.

Maybe he’d visit while he was in town.

…or actually not. Fuck, what was he thinking? Jim was far better off without him there, screwing up his life. He came back for David’s funeral, and that was it.

David and Eleanor had practically raised him and Jim after…well, after Frank. And Sam.

Winona certainly didn’t try to.

_Stupid curse, stupid revenants, stupid story, stupid adop-_

No. No, despite everything he couldn’t hate the fact that the Kirks had adopted him. He couldn’t be sorry that Jim was his brother--even Frank with all his booze and beatings was a part of his life that made him who he was.

It had been _normal._ Sad, awful, but normal. Til it wasn’t.

Well, whatever. Life had been normal for Jim, as normal as possible. Leonard made sure of that. By leaving. Without saying goodbye. Best to just leave well enough alone.

* * *

Riverside was a nice little town, at first glance. Peaceful. No big skyscrapers or shopping malls. Seemed like the kind of place developers would just itch to get their hands on...if it wasn’t cursed. Riverside rarely got visitors, and when it did, they were usually on their way within 24 hours. Who’d be crazy enough to come back here?

Oh right. Leonard was.

 _For the funeral._ Not forever. Right.

_Keep telling yourself that, Bones._

Leonard lingered on the edge of the property, staring across the field at the small group of people gathered around David’s final resting place. He could see Eleanor speaking, giving her eulogy. She was staring a dug up pile of ground, covered in flowers. Leonard’s stomach gave a sad twinge.

After a few minutes, people began to look up across the field, taking notice of him. Most of them glared. Their gaze was clear: _you’re not wanted here._

Leonard looked down at his shoes.

When people began to disperse, heading up to Eleanor’s farmhouse for the luncheon after the funeral, Leonard turned away and began walking back down the driveway the way he came. Why had he thought coming back here was a good idea, he asked himself for the millionth time in the last twelve hours?

“Really? You’re just gonna take off without a word? Again?”

Leonard turned around and saw Eleanor standing there with her arms crossed.

Leonard stuck his hands in his pockets. “Just came to pay my respects,” he mumbled.

“You can pay your respects inside like everyone else,” Eleanor said. She turned back toward the house. “Come on.” Then after a moment, she added in a softer tone, “Besides, you look like you ain’t had a proper meal in years.”

Leonard reluctantly followed after her. “Is it, uh...is it legal to bury your husband on your land?” he asked.

Eleanor sniffed. “Well, I’m sure they do things differently in the _big city_...but I got the permits. You know how he loved this land. Couldn’t stand to part them.”

“Um...how did it-”

“Heart attack,” said Eleanor curtly. “Just a simple heart attack while he was working out in the field, that’s all. Gary found him lying out there, but by then it was...too late.”

Leonard shook his head. “Uncle David was the strongest man alive. There’s no way a little coronary could take him out.”

“Everyone dies, Len. With you bein’ a doctor an’ all, you should know that.”

Leonard winced as he remembered his “excuse” for leaving. He _had_ gone to medical school, on scholarship and everything. But he hadn’t taken his exams, and he hadn’t been back since.

“Aunt Ellie...when Gary found him...was he still...in one piece?”

Eleanor whirled around on him so fast, it gave Leonard whiplash. “Now listen here, son. There are 23 mourning people in there, and this is _not_ the place for your damn _conspiracy theories_. Just, for one day, keep your crazy comments in your pocket.”

Leonard swallowed, his gaze dropping to the dusty ground. “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered.

But he couldn’t stow his suspicions entirely. And now he had a lead--Gary Fucking Mitchell.


	2. Brotherly Reunion

“Either I’ve had too much whiskey, or Leonard McCoy just sat down at my bar.”

“Howdy, _Cupcake_ ,” said Leonard with a grin.

Jake Hendorff frowned as he poured Bones a shot of tequila. “You know Cupcake was the lady I bought this joint from, right?”

“Yeah, but you never changed the name of the place. That makes you Cupcake...Cupcake.”

Cupcake huffed in annoyance. Then he softened a little. “So...you’re in town for the funeral, I take it.”

Leonard threw back his shot. “Yeah,” he muttered.

“David was a fine fella. Was sad to hear he’d passed.”

“You know if _I_ were lucky enough to get out of this shithole town, I’d never come back,” said a guy down the bar loudly. He was blonde, with a gnarly scar on his cheek. “But then again, I guess if you’re a crazy ass _cursed_ Kirk...even an adopted one-“

Leonard whirled around. Had he just said cursed?

“Hey, buddy.” Suddenly a woman grabbed Scarface’s shoulder. “Either shut up or get out.”

Scarface snickered at her. “And what are _you_ gonna do to make me?”

The woman, who had striking eyes and a long, high ponytail, pulled back her leather jacket to pull her wallet out of her inner pocket. The action revealed a gun on her hip that made Scarface stiffen. The woman flipped open her wallet to reveal a badge. “US Marshal. I can make sure you sober up in a cozy jail cell,” she said a calm, authoritative tone.

Leonard raised his eyebrows. Whoa. Hot.

Scarface, fuming, grumbled something. Then he climbed off his stool and staggered out the door.

The woman looked over at Leonard. “Sorry about that jerk,” she said in a nicer tone.

“Th-thank you,” said Leonard, still sort of bowled over. “Uhh...can I buy you a drink, or are you on duty?”

The woman smiled a bit. “That’d be nice.” She took a seat next to him and ordered some drink with Fireball in it. Damn. Lady cop who drank harder than he did. All kinds of hot.

“Uh...I didn’t catch your name, Marshal,” said Leonard.

“I didn’t throw it.” The woman smirked. “Uhura.”

“Oh, that’s pretty...uh, is that a first or last name?”

“Last. It’s Swahili.”

“Marshal Blank Uhura,” Leonard said. “I’m Leonard McCoy.”

“Talk of the town from what I’ve heard,” she said as Cupcake slid her her drink. “Story is you’re a Kirk, one of the old families and everything.”

“Well, as Kirk as the adoption papers made me,” Leonard shrugged, and Cupcake refilled his drink in an almost pavlovian response to the mention of his adoption. Good man, Cupcake.

“So what’s with the different last name, you married?”

“Nope,” Leonard said, popping the P, “but if you know about the history Kirk clan, you understand why I’d wanna go by my birth one.”

He raised his glass in salute to one of the many pictures on the wall of James Kirk—the original one, not Leonard’s kid brother. Uhura nodded solemnly and took a long drink from her glass, not even wincing.

Okay, very hot. Literally.

Leonard was about to ask what a US Marshal was doing in their sleepy neck of the woods when there was a ruckus from the store room door, and Leonard watched a Gary Mitchell lugged a box up the top of the stairs and into the bar, setting it on the counter.

“Alright boss, that’s the last of it,” Mitchell said, and Cupcake grunted in his direction, nodding. “You’re done for the day, make sure you punch out.”

“When are we gonna get an actual punch clock, boss?”

“That _is_ a punch clock, Gary,”

“No, It’s a hole puncher and some paper. I mean a computer.”

“Fuck off and go home, Gary, before I get a computer to do your job.”

“Message received, boss.” Gary said, mock saluting before heading off to punch out.

Leonard glanced at Cupcake. “He works here now?”

“I’m the only idiot with enough bleeding heart to hire him,” Cupcake muttered. “What’s it matter to you?”

“Nothin’,” Leonard said, downing the rest of his drink and placing a couple of bills on the counter. He glanced at the spot next to him—but US Marshall Blank Uhura was gone, her glass empty.

 _Bigger fish to fry_ , Leonard thought as he got up and trailed after Mitchell, following him to the corner opposite the bathrooms, where he knew there were steps leading up to the loft Cupcake rented out, and the punch clock.

Leonard watched as Gary Mitchell punched a hole in his timecard, and started heading up the stairs. He let him get halfway up before he darted forward and shouted, “Hey! Gary!”

Gary looked over his shoulder and frowned. “Bones McCoy? That you?”

Biting back irritation at the old nickname, Leonard forced a smile onto his face. “Yeah! Hey, what are you up to? It’s been years-”

“Since you left, yeah,” Gary said, rolling his eyes and going up the stairs.

“Let me buy you a drink, for old time’s sake. We can catch up-”

“Oh man, where have I heard that befo— _hey!_ ”

Leonard grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the loft, shoving him down on the bed and pinning him with a knee on Gary’s stomach.

“Alright Mitchell, let’s talk about my uncle.”

“I didn’t kill him!” Gary yelped.

Leonard rolled his eyes. “I know that, _dumbass_. But I also know he didn’t die from some heart attack. Now talk before I take this knee off your stomach and ram it somewhere more _sensitive_.”

Gary gasped. “Not my boys! Please! L-look, I don’t know anything, I swear!”

Leonard dug his knee in, right where his spleen was.

Gary cried out. “Eleanor will kill me!”

Leonard dug in harder.

“ _OKAY OKAY!_ Look all I know is that we were on the Kirk family homestead when-“

Leonard froze. “The homestead?” he whispered. He thought no one had touched the place since Frank...and Sam...

Leonard scowled at Gary. “What happened on the homestead? Tell me!”

Gary whimpered.

“No one here to protect you, Gar’. Start talking.”

There was a click of a shotgun cocking and a growled: _“I’m_ here to protect him, now get the hell off my boyfriend!”

_Ah, fucking shit._

Leonard slowly raised his hands, and turned his head.

Jim lowered his gun, eyes widening. _“Bones?!”_

“Hey, Jim, you look, uh, good…”

And that was as far as he got before he was being dragged out by his ear in a way that would have made Winona proud.

Leonard whined as he was led out. “Jim-”

“You finally come back into town after how many fucking years-!”

“Jim-”

“You don’t fucking call-!”

“I’m out of minutes-”

“Or text!”

“And data?”

“You don’t say hello-!”

“I haven’t seen you!”

“You assault my boyfriend-!”

“Why _the fuck_ are you dating Gary Fucking Mitchell!”

Jim stopped dragging him, stopped right in the middle of Cupcake’s bar, and slapped him upside the head like a child.

“Ow! Will you quit hurting me?!”

“Will you stop acting like you have any say in my life after you _left?!”_

_“Will you stop acting like a child?!”_

“Will _you both_ take the brotherly reunion outside, before I call Pike!” Cupcake boomed, and both boys flinched, heading for the door in silence.

* * *

Jim stood with his arms crossed, not looking at Leonard. The prodigal brother shuffled his feet awkwardly. “So...did you go to college?”

“ _FUCK_ MY COLLEGE!” Jim erupted. Leonard winced. “Where the fuck have you been all these years???”

“I’ve been...around. Atlanta, mostly.” Then something occurred to Leonard. “Why didn’t I see _you_ at Uncle David’s wake?”

Now it was Jim’s turn to be awkward. “I...I couldn’t go,” he said. “I know I shoulda been there for Aunt Ellie, but...it just felt like another piece of my family was slipping away.”

Leonard’s stomach twinged with guilt. “I’m sorry. I really am, kiddo.”

Jim scoffed. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He eyed Leonard. “So what, you were gonna show up, go to the funeral, and then leave again? Is that it?”

“Jimmy...”

“Don’t _Jimmy_ me. Don’t you understand? I _needed_ you. Now more than ever.”

“Even more than when Frank...you know...”

“Bones, you and I are the only ones who know the curse is real. It killed Frank, it killed Sam...it could kill you!”

Leonard felt a little relief at someone in this town not thinking he was crazy. And also horror. Because it meant the curse was real. The revenant attack last night was real.

The Heir. The revenant had called him _the Heir_. Well it fit, didn’t it? He was officially 28, which meant the onus was passed from Winona to him now. It would’ve been Sam, if Sam wasn’t...

The descendants of James Tiberius Kirk (the original) had passed this curse down from generation to generation. When the Heir (the oldest living child in a generation) came of age (28), the 77 victims of Leonard and Jim’s great-great granddaddy arose as revenants. They were trapped in the Enterprise River Triangle. Only the Heir could dispatch them, by killing them and sending them back to hell with James Kirk’s gun—Antonia. The only way to break the curse for good was for the Heir to kill all 77. In five generations, no Heir had ever succeeded. Either their children had come of age before they could finish the job, starting the cycle over...or the Heirs had died. Been killed in action.

Leonard sighed, sitting down on the porch of Cupcake’s. “I was attacked this morning on my way into town. By a revenant. It called me  _Heir_.”

Jim let out a breath too and sank down beside him. “Then we know, the curse isn’t restricted to just blood descendants.”

“Yeah,” mumbled Leonard. “Lucky me.”

Jim laughed hollowly. “Bet you’re real glad Winona and Frank decided to adopt you, eh?”

Leonard looked at him and smiled a tiny bit. “I sure am.” He bumped Jim’s arm gently.

“Dawwww...well I can’t be mad at you now!” Jim groaned, hugging Leonard tightly.

Leonard laughed softly, patting his back. “Okay, kiddo. I missed you too.”

Jim pulled back. He punched Leonard in the arm, hard.

“Oww! What was that for?” Leonard grouched.

“For attacking my boyfriend! Why did you do that, anyway? I know you’ve never exactly been Gary’s biggest fan, but...”

“Because he was the only one around when Uncle David died. He was my _one_ lead to find out what _really_ happened to him.”

Jim’s blue eyes widened. “I knew it. I knew David didn’t really have a heart attack! It was a revenant, wasn’t it?”

“Probably. I was just about to break Gary for the details when a crazed gunman busted in.” Leonard glared pointedly at Jim.

“You wanna go back in and try to beat it out of him again? I can help!”

Leonard looked at Jim in surprise.

Jim grinned mischievously. “Wouldn’t be the first time me and Gary got a little rough.”

“Gross,” Leonard said, cringing. “Besides...he told me something that made me kind of want to just...forget the whole thing.”

“What’d he say?”

Leonard stares at the ground. “David died at the homestead,” he said quietly.

“Oh my God...Bones...do you think we should-“

“ _No_ ,” said Leonard sharply. “I’m never setting foot on that place again. Not after...” He pursed his lips.

“But Bones, this is our only lead! And besides, Antonia-“

“ _No,_  Jim!” Leonard snapped. “I’m not going back to the homestead. And I’m definitely not laying a finger on that gun again. We’ll find another way.”


	3. Abra-cadaver

“So breaking into the coroner’s office was easier than just going home?”

“ _Shhh._ ” Leonard fake-smiled as he passed a couple of people in the corridor. Then he muttered to Jim once they turned the corner, “Look, it ain’t breakin’ in. I’m still technically a medical student. I’m gonna tell ‘em that I’m here to study a cadaver for my dissertation, and when the office is empty, you’ll check the files for the report on Uncle David. We’ll be in and out lickety-split.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Jim moaned.

“ _Shhhhhhh_.” Leonard flashed his fake smile again as he stepped up to the window of the coroner’s office. Jim hid around the corner. “Howdy,” said Leonard in a much cheerier tone than he normally would. “I’m here for the cadaver study?”

The coroner squinted at him. “What? We don’t have a study planned for today.”

“Really? Didn’t you get the email from my professor?” Leonard faked a confused, innocent look. “Dr. Spring said he’d contacted you.”

The coroner opened his email and scanned through the inbox. “Nothin’ here...you look a little old to be pre-med.”

“I might have taken a gap year...or two.” Leonard chuckled, pulling out his old student ID and showing it to the man.

“Georgia? You’re a far cry from school, son.”

“Well...I asked my teacher if he would get me an appointment with the coroner’s office in my hometown. I knew I was gonna need to come home. See...there’s been a death in the family recently.” Leonard let some of the grief he’d been holding in emerge and show on his face.

The coroner softened. “Well...I’m sure it was an honest mistake. These damn high tech gizmos are bound to get their wires crossed occasionally. Come on, I’ll take you down to the morgue.”

Leonard grinned. “Oh thank you!” He shot a wink at Jim’s hiding spot when the coroner wasn’t looking. They were in.

* * *

“Ever seen a dead body, son?” asked the coroner as he unlocked the drawer.

“Depends on your definition,” Leonard mumbled.

The coroner gave him a strange look.

“Oh uh...I mean...my dormmate when he’s hungover pretty much looks like death warmed over,” Leonard said, laughing in a way he hoped was convincing.

“Raw egg, Tabasco, Worcestershire.”

“Huh?”

“Guaranteed hangover cure. Mix it all together with some salt and pepper, squeeze your nose, and drink it down. You’ll be back to your old self in no time.”

“Oh.”

* * *

Jim hopped through the window into the coroner’s office. Thank god there wasn’t a security cam. He scanned quickly through the filing cabinets. “H, H, H...Ha-Ho.” He tried to open the cabinet, but found it locked. Jim growled to himself. He looked over on the desk and saw a small cup of paper clips. He grinned. Time to go old school.

* * *

When the coroner pulled back the sheet, Leonard immediately felt queasy. Thank Jesus the eyes were closed. But the way the color had disappeared from the flesh, the lips...the way the blue veins shone through the translucent, paper white skin...

“Now as you can see, the TOD was roughly 18 hours ago, so the rigor mortis is well along...”

* * *

_“They’re coming at the house!” shrieked Len._

_“They’re not supposed to be able to break through the property line!” Frank exclaimed. “Quick, Bones, get the gun! Sam has to shoot them!”_

_“But Mama’s the Heir-!” Ten year old Sam squeaked._

_“Goddamnit, boy, she ain’t here! You’re our only hope.” Frank looked at Len, who was frozen in place. “Why the fuck are you just stand there?! Get the gun!!!”_

_Len rushed through the house, to Winona and Frank’s room. He opened the drawer of the bedside table that hadn’t been touched since Winona went away and pulled out a shiny, silver pistol._

_Antonia, James Kirk had called it._

_Len ran back to the living room. But suddenly the front windows burst open, and men and women with glowing red eyes charged into the house. Revenants. Len hid behind the couch and peeped out fearfully._

_Frank blew a hole through one with his own shotgun, but the revenant just laughed._

_One of them pointed to Sam. “Get him,” he growled._

_Sam screamed as they grabbed hold of him. Some others grabbed Frank. “Help!” Sam shouted as they towed him out the window. Len’s heart lurched. They were taking his brother to do God knows what to him!!!_

_“Kill Daddy,” said the revenant who seemed to be the leader. The ones holding onto Frank grinned  and began viciously pulling at his body._

_Len stared at the gun in his little hand. He had to do something-_

* * *

“Hello?”

Leonard gasped as he snapped out of it. “Ah! I’m...sorry. It’s...a little unnerving.”

The coroner smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure. Especially with your recent loss.” Suddenly his pocket let out a chipper ring. “Ah! I have to take this. Wait here, I’ll just be outside.”

The coroner stepped out the room and Leonard shuddered. “I need therapy,” he muttered.

* * *

“Gotcha!” said Jim as the drawer slid open, finally unlocked. “Now, let’s see...Hale, Hannigan, Hart...Hatfield!” He pulled out a Manila folder triumphantly. “Answers, here we come.”

But when he opened the folder...it was empty. “What?!” Jim squawked.

Suddenly, he heard a calm, deep voice behind him say, “You are under arrest. Hands behind your back. _Slowly._ ”

Jim groaned and offered his wrists to be cuffed. But when he turned around, he found himself staring at dark hair, a strong jaw, thick eyebrows, high cheekbones, and brown eyes so deep you could drown in them.

Jim grinned sheepishly. “Well, you’ve got to be the most gorgeous officer who’s ever arrested me, that’s for sure.”

The cop (whose badge said “Grayson”) blushed in surprise. Then he frowned. “Come with me,” he said, leading him out of the office.

* * *

“Impersonating a doctor’s a pretty serious offense, you know.”

Leonard jumped and whirled around. It was the Marshal. Uhura. Leonard nervously flashed her a grin. “I never claimed I was a doctor. I said I was a med student—which I am.”

“An _ex_ med student. You dropped out and never completed your exams.”

“You really have been reading up on me,” Leonard said. “Well as flattered as I am at your interest in me, Marshal, I happen to know that y’all don’t have jurisdiction in these parts.”

“Cross-country investigation. Special unit.” Uhura swiveled him around, grabbed his wrists, and held him up against the wall. Leonard felt a twitch. Hot lady cop who wears leather jackets, drinks Fireball whiskey, and is currently restraining and cuffing him. A part of him hoped desperately that this situation would turn out like every cop/arrestee porno he’d ever watched.

Uhura waved a packet of papers in front of his nose—a coroner’s report. Leonard just barely had time to catch the name “David Hatfield” at the top before she snatched them out of his eyesight. “This what your partner was looking for?”

“Look, you don’t understand,” Leonard tried to explain.

“Really? Well you can tell me all about it at the station. Come on,” she said, escorting him from the morgue.

* * *

“So, I think the real question is why would two guys care so much about their uncle’s coroner’s report?”

Leonard shrugged nonchalantly. “Closure, I guess. You know, all that grief counseling jargon. Needed to see for myself that he was really dead.”

Uhura planted her palms on the table and leaned toward him. “You know what I think, Leonard? I think you wanted to see how David _really_ died. Because you didn’t really believe he’d had a heart attack.”

Leonard’s eyes widened.

“Now the people of this sleepy little hamlet can close their eyes to the truth all they want. But you know better. There’s something unusual about Riverside. About the whole River Triangle.”

“What kind of Marshal are you again?” Leonard asked.

“I’m part of a special unit: Red Star Division.” Uhura showed him her badge, and sure enough there was a small red star in the center.”

Leonard grinned, looking at the ID next to it. “ _Nyota_ Uhura. That’s gorgeous. So what exactly does the Red Star Division investigate?”

Nyota stared at him steadily. “The inexplicable,” she simply said.

Leonard swallowed and leaned back in his chair. “I can’t tell you anything,” he mumbled.

“How about a little quid pro quo?” Nyota pulled out the report on David. “I let you look at this till your little heart’s content, and you give me a clue as to what’s going on around here.”

Leonard darted his gaze away from hers. His eyes happened to land on the surveillance camera in the corner by the ceiling.

The red light was off. _They weren’t being recorded._

Leonard stared at the report hungrily. Then he looked at the Marshal. “Listen, I could tell you shit that would make your teeth curl. But I don’t really wanna be Scully’d.”

“Trust me, I’m much more of a Mulder.” Nyota tipped her head, her long ponytail swinging down. “Do we have a deal?”

Leonard hesitated, then leaned forward. “You ever hear of...revenants?” he said conspiratorially.

Nyota’s eyes widened. “I knew it,” she whispered. She threw the report down on the table open face and strode out, pulling out a cellphone. The door swung shut behind her.

Leonard looked down at the sheet before him and scanned the coroner’s messy handwriting. His eyes narrowed. “I knew it,” he echoed.

* * *

_One revenant was pulling at Frank’s head, trying to yank it right off its shoulders. It was now or never._

_Len knew Winona always kept Antonia loaded, so he pulled back the hammer, took aim for the revenant, and squeezed the trigger as hard as his seven year old fingers could._

**_Bang!_ **

_Frank fell limp in the revenants’ grasp, and Len dropped the gun in horror. There was a bullet hole in his forehead._

_The revenants dropped the man, then looked at Len._

_Len trembled, backing away as one of the revenants loomed over him. The revenant grinned down at him with yellowish-brown, rotting teeth. He reached down..._

_...and picked up Antonia._

_Then they turned and leapt out the window, running off the property. Len ran to the window and watched as the revenant opened the cover to the well on the Kirk property. He shot a grin back at Len, his red eyes flaring, as he dropped the gun down into the well. Then they disappeared over the horizon._

_Len choked, rushing over to Frank. “I’m-m-m sorry,” he babbled. “I was trying to shoot them, but I missed...Frank, please wake up...Frank!” He shook the man, but Frank was still, blood flowing from his head wound._


	4. Leavin’ On Your Mind

Christopher Pike, who’d been chief of police as long as Leonard could remember, escorted him and Jim out to the front area. “You’re mighty lucky the Marshal decided to go easy on you boys. Course...” His voice took on a sympathetic tone. “It’s understandable, since y’all two didn’t really get to say goodbye to David.”

Pike looked at Leonard. “ _You_ , I’m surprised about, boy. Never been in a lick of trouble in your life. Not even a parking ticket.” Then he looked at Jim. “And I thought _you_ gave up bein’ a troublemaker after high school.”

“I’m back on the straight and narrow, Pike. Promise. Well, maybe not so much _straight_ , but definitely narrow,” said Jim, grinning.

The door opened and Eleanor came in, her expression furious enough to melt metal. Leonard looked at Pike in terror. “I thought we weren’t in trouble!”

“Eh, not with the law. With her? That’s another matter entirely,” said Pike sheepishly.

Eleanor stomped over to them. “Get in the car _right now_ ,” she hissed.

Leonard and Jim hung their heads meekly and began walking toward the door. But as they passed the front desk, Jim shot a grin at Deputy Grayson, who was doing some paperwork. “Thanks for not makin’ those cuffs too tight,” he said.

Grayson blushed again, then quickly buried his head in his work.

Leonard elbowed Jim as they walked out of the building. “Were you flirting with the guy who arrested you? Aren’t you with Gary? Not that I care, the guy’s a fuckin’ loser, but still.”

“What? It was harmless! Besides, you can’t tell me he wasn’t a snack.”

Leonard thought of the _full course meal_ that was Nyota Uhura and shrugged. “I’ve seen better. Anyway...I was right.”

“You saw the report?” Jim said.

“Yeah. Uncle David’s head _was_ removed. Pulled clean off.”

“Revenants for sure,” said Jim. “Leonard...you don’t think they killed Uncle David...to lure you back home, do you?”

Leonard bit his lip, not uttering a word.

* * *

_Len sat frozen with shock over Frank’s body. He’d killed him. He’d killed Frank._

_And Sam was gone._

_Len heard wailing from the upstairs. He’d completely forgotten about the baby._

_He shakily walked upstairs to his and baby Jim’s room. The littlest Kirk was screaming his lungs out._

_“It’s okay, Jimmy,” whispered Len, climbing up on a stool to reach into the crib. Jim stopped crying at the sight of his brother. He reached out with his chubby little hand and gripped two of Len’s fingers hard._

_“It’s just the two of us, now,” Len said solemnly. “And I’m never gonna let anything happen to you.”_

* * *

“Back in town for a day and you get him thrown in a jail cell! I can’t believe you both! I mean, god, Jim, I thought we were past this, boy!” 

Jim winced at her tone, remembering the feeling of a hand on the back of his head. Leonard had already felt it today. 

“So tell me what this is, is it some weird reaction to grief? Are you drunk? Are there drugs? Leonard, I get you want to get out of here but are you so desperate that you’re going to drag him down with you?!” 

“Aunt Ellie, I’m sorry!” Leonard insisted, then winced when she smacked him again. 

“You really came back just to cause a stir? Why the _fuck_ -“

“It really wasn’t his fault!” Jim insisted.

Ellie glared at him. “Don’t you think I’m done with you yet either!” She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I really don’t need this. Not today.”

Jim swallowed. “Bones saw the coroner’s report, Aunt Ellie. It wasn’t a heart attack. He was _murdered_...by rev-”

“Oh no! I am not hearing this crazy talk again!” Ellie shouted. “I thought we were past this. There are no such things as demons or a ‘Kirk curse’!”

“Then who pulled Uncle David’s head clean off his shoulders?” Jim challenged.

Tears welled in Ellie’s eyes, and she shook with anger and grief. Finally she spun on her heel and stormed from the room. The boys heard her footsteps clomp all the way upstairs and her bedroom door slam.

Leonard looked at Jim. “You shouldn’t have said that,” he said, getting up and grabbing his wallet, phone, and the keys to Ellie’s truck off the counter.

“Where are you going?”

“To Cupcake’s, to get a damn drink,” Leonard lied. “Just...stay out of Ellie’s way.”

Leonard marched outside to the shed, grabbing a long thick rope and a shovel. He threw them in the back of the truck and took off...for the Kirk family homestead.

* * *

The land had been abandoned after Frank Hatfield’s death, and it looked it. Weeds abound, dust covering everything. Someone had spray painted “FREAKS” on the mailbox. Leonard frowned. Classy.

He tied the end of his long rope to a secure post near the well, then swung his legs over the side and began scaling down the inside. At the bottom, it was blacker than night. _Please don’t let there be spiders, please don’t let there be spiders..._

Leonard’s hand found something cool and hard.

Antonia.

Shoving through the belt loop of his jeans, he grit his teeth and climbed back up to the top. Gasping, he pulled himself out. His hand drifted to his hip and he stared at the pistol with the long, skinny barrel. The bullet chamber shone in the sun. Leonard’s hands shook slightly, remembering how Frank slumped in the grasp of the revenants when Leonard shot him, how Sam screamed...

Leonard took a deep breath, steadying himself. Then he marched back to the truck. He began to climb into the cab, but a slip of paper tucked under the windshield wiper caught his eye. He stepped back out and grabbed it.

**_Welcome home, Heir._ **

Leonard’s eyes widened in fear. He crumpled the note up and took off for the Hatfield’s farm as fast as he could.

He didn’t even realize that he’d left the rope behind.

* * *

On the outskirts of town, Leonard parked the truck by the welcome sign, cheerfully proclaiming that Riverside was “a friendly place to visit!” and “The Home of Legendary Gunslinger James Kirk!” 

Leonard glared at the cartoon face of his ancestor. Kirk was often depicted as handsome, with glossy golden hair like Winona and Jim, and bright hazel eyes—just like Sam’s had been. He sat high and noble on a horse, larger than life, his sturdy jawline tilted upward valiantly.

“This is _your_ fault, you bastard,” Leonard spat. “Couldn’t have just been a ranch owner or run a saloon. Had to be a big shot. Had to damn your entire bloodline, didn’t ya?”

Leonard took a few steps back, and whipped out Antonia, aiming square between Kirk’s eyes. “Fuck you, James Kirk!” he shouted.

He squeezed the trigger.

The bullet shot through the “s” in “James”.

”Shit!” Leonard swore. How could he miss Kirk’s fat head? It was such an easy target.

He spun the revolver and aimed again. This time the bullet went through the horse’s hind leg.

Again. The bullet missed the sign completely and ricocheted off the pole supporting the right side of the sign, and ding’d the trailer of Ellie’s truck. Leonard was lucky it hadn’t hit the gas tank or a tire.

Leonard threw the gun down onto the ground, bursting into tears of frustration. “It ain’t supposed to be me!” he screeched. “This is Sam’s job, not mine! I ain’t even a real Kirk! I can’t even shoot with this stupid ass busted peashooter! Why me...why me...”

Leonard sniffed hard and glared at Kirk’s painting. “Fuck this. I don’t give a rat’s ass about this place anymore. The demons want Riverside? It’s all theirs! I’m out!”

He scooped up Antonia and climbed into the truck, angrily speeding away.

* * *

Leonard burst into Jim’s room. “Let’s get out of here,” he said breathlessly.

Jim cocked his head at him. “Where do you wanna go?”

“New Orleans, Honolulu, Paris...wherever your heart desires, baby boy. Let’s just go.”

Jim sat up from where he was stretched out on his stomach on his bed. “You want to _leave_ the Triangle?”

“Why not?” Leonard said. “What’s worth staying for in Riverside? Except people thinking we’re crazy and demon monsters coming for our heads?”

“A chance to put a stop to it,” Jim replied firmly. “Look, I may not have been chosen to be the Kirk Heir...but I do know that we can fight this thing together, you and me.” Jim spotted the gun shoved into Leonard’s boot. “Is that what I think it is?!” he gasped, jumping up.

“ _Yes_ ,” sighed Leonard, backing away from Jim when he reached for it like a greedy kid on Christmas.

“You’ve known where it is this whole time?!”

“Look, it doesn’t matter!” Leonard said. “This doesn’t have to be our problem. We can leave this literal hellhole and go somewhere where we don’t have this curse hanging over our heads!”

“But you have the gun now! This is the only thing that can kill the revenants!”

“Look, for all we know, it doesn’t even shoot straight! You know the last person shot with this gun wasn’t a revenant.”

Jim stared at him. “That’s it, isn’t it. You still feel guilty for killing Frank. Bones, it was an _accident_. You were seven years old!”

”It don’t matter! The point is, I’m gettin’ out of this hellhole on the first bus tomorrow. I hope you’ll meet me at the bus station.” Leonard stuck Antonia’s slim barrel firmly in his boot and turned toward the door.

”You're being a coward, you know,” Jim spat, making him stop short. “Running away now...just like you did 12 years ago. I guess it was too much to expect you wouldn’t abandon me again.”

Leonard swallowed hard and left.

* * *

”Bourbon,” he barked at Cupcake as he sat at the bar. “Please,” he amended softly.

Cupcake wordlessly set a shot in front of him and Leonard threw it back, hand shaking. “Another.” He threw that one back too.

“Nice gun.”

Leonard looked up to see a man in a wide-brimmed hat, waistcoat and necktie, and a dark duster, sitting down the bar from him. He laughed scoffingly. “Nice cosplay. Lemme guess, big fan of the Kirk man?”

The man in Wild West duds grinned in amusement, almost as if he were thinking of an inside joke that Bones wasn’t privy to. “You might say that. You can call me Scotty,” he said in a thick Scottish brogue.

”Scotty...lemme guess, cause a’ the accent?”

”Me full name’s Montgomery Scott...but I suppose it’s fittin’ the other way as well,” Scotty chuckled. “And who might you be?”

”Um...they call me Bones.” Leonard didn’t really feel like getting identified as the foundling child of the Kirk clan today.

“Well, Bones...” The man’s eyes sparkled with amusement. He was actually kind of cute, if Leonard was being totally honest. “Mind if I have a look?” he gestured to Antonia.

Leonard considered for a moment, then shrugged. “You know what? Go ahead. I’m literally out of fucks to give today.” He slid the gun down the table to the other man.

Scotty appraised the gun with a keen eye. “Aye...this be the genuine article alright. Now whatever might ye be doin’ with James Kirk’s gun?”

Leonard tensed. “That cheap knockoff?” he scoffed, laughing. “Bought it in a souvenir shop. This town’s a total tourist trap.”

”Oh really? However did they manage to get it to look so authentically old?”

Leonard scowled at him. “So what. You’re an expert in antiques now?”

”You could say that.” Again, Scotty snickered. He twirled Antonia on his finger. “You know...they say James Kirk had a lover who had this gun specifically made for him. Had his initials carved into the handle here.”

”The Desert Flower,” Leonard said. “They never found a real name. Historians only had Kirk’s personal logs to go by, and it was clear that the reason Kirk never referred to his Flower by name was because he was protecting their identity. Some think he was having an affair with a married woman. Some say it was a nun. And others think-“

”The Desert Flower was a Man,” Scotty finished.

“You say that like you’re sure it’s right.”

Scotty smirked. “Just speculation.”

”Well...” Leonard raised his shotglass sardonically. “To gay cowboys everywhere.”

”Kirk named her Antonia because she was _the only woman in his life_.”

”You act like that gun is just a little romantic gesture,” Leonard growled. “The only thing that gun represents is bloodshed. The blood shed by 77 people. James Kirk murdered people and they call him a hero.”

Scotty frowned, and suddenly he looked hundreds of years old to Leonard. “James Tiberius Kirk didn’t want to kill. He wanted a home and a partner and to die in his sleep. Then one day his parents were gunned down by Kodos the Kidd and he was reborn a gunslinger. He could’ve gunned the man who murdered his parents down and washed his hands of it, retired and lived a simple life. But James Kirk knew there were people out there who needed his help, bad men who needed to be brought to justice. So he soldiered on. He never gave up, he never backed down...isn’t that what a hero is?”

Scotty started to slowly walk toward the door. He paused and tipped his hat to Leonard, setting the gun on the bar beside him. “Good day, Leonard McCoy.”

Leonard frowned as he walked away, then realized he’d never given Scotty his full name. “Hey, how did you-?”

But Scotty was gone. Leonard rapped his fingers on the bar. Then he growled in frustration, snatching the gun up and slamming some money on the table.

* * *

”Fine!” Leonard snapped, barging into Jim’s room. “Fine, you win! I will help you-“

But Jim was gone. The window was open and things were strewn all over the floor. There was a slip of paper resting on the bed. Leonard grabbed and read the words written on it.

**_Homestead, sunset. Or he dies!_ **

**_P.S. Bring the gun!_ **

”Oh no,” Leonard whispered. “Oh no no no no _no_.”


End file.
